


(Not) Quite Right

by 0UTBR34K



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Body Horror, Domestic Fluff, Other, bear with me here, canon-typical weirdness, have fun stay safe i love you, tags will be updated if anything else pops up, unreality, your roommate is a Stranger but you're cool with it tho
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:35:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22904074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0UTBR34K/pseuds/0UTBR34K
Summary: Your roommate isn't the same person each time you look at them. You learn to live with it.
Relationships: You/The Stranger
Comments: 23
Kudos: 76





	1. Chapter 1

Your new roommate isn’t quite right.

  
Well, they are, in their own way. They can be right if you don’t look too hard. They must be fine to someone, since they do have a job, but maybe that person also isn’t quite right. However it goes, they have enough money to split the rent, and they definitely go _somewhere_ during the day and do _something_ out there in the world. Or… Is the one who lives in your house the same one people see outside? Thinking about it makes a ball of dread curl up in your stomach, makes you question if anyone you know is who they say they are, sends your mind whirling-- No, no, keep it down. At least they do their share of chores.  
Sometimes, when you leave in the morning, you come back to someone new. They know the same things about you, they have the same routine, and their speech pattern is recognizable even if it slowly turns into something completely different from before. They enjoy the same things, they like the same order from the Chinese place down the street, and they pick right up where the last version of them left off. When you check your phone for pictures, it confirms what you already know. You stop taking pictures. It’s just awkward once you get over the clawing horror.

  
When you first met them, you didn’t notice that sometimes they changed. Figuring it out made you vomit and cry and shake like you were dying. Were you being tricked? Were you being hunted? Were they going to hurt you? Were they going to hurt the people you loved? (They didn’t, at least, if they did you never noticed.) They knew that you knew, somehow, it showed when they looked at you like you were the one who had been someone new, like they were _daring_ you to challenge them, like they had a million responses prepared to counter any possible argument you could ever start.

  
You just asked if they’d like to go with you to get groceries. You were out of eggs.

They looked a bit surprised and said yes. While you were out you also picked up brownie mix, something to share. It might help if you could do something together that didn’t involve you accusing them of being a horrifying doppelganger creature.

Now that you’re used to it, this kind of thing is normal. You’ll comment on it in your own way, asking if they got a new haircut or did something different with their makeup that day, and they’ll smile in that way they do. It’s not a smile. It’s meant to be, and the feeling is there, so you just enjoy that they’re trying. Sometimes the change is slow and you don’t know until they’re completely different from before. Sometimes they leave you reeling and become someone new from the time you get into the shower to the time you get out. Either way, it’s a little fun to never know.

  
The thing that still unsettles you is when you have more than one person in the house. Of course, you know you’ve _always_ had two roommates, not just one, but when they leave then no one has ever been there. They leave different food in your fridge, another smell in the fabric of the couch, socks that don’t fit either of you until they do. You know they were there. You hope whoever they live with next is ready for what’s coming.

  
For a month or so, you have five. It’s a tight fit, but they seem… Desperate. Confused. Never quite fitting a schedule, moving and changing in ways you can almost watch happen. You know which one has been there since the beginning (they all have, they've always been there, but one is just more solid and distinct) and you try to look to them for what’s normal to mention.

  
One of them, when you ask them a question, makes a mistake that puts your mind in a tailspin. Their mouth doesn’t move the way their words form. It’s like a desynchronization on a video, like the audio has run just a few seconds ahead. Do you say something? Would that be rude, somehow? Would they kill you if they knew you knew?  
You decide to make your next sentence very, very clear and make your words very large in your mouth. You point to your face in a way that’s nearly comical. They give a soft “oh!” and correct their mistake in a way that makes you question if it ever happened at all.

By the time the four of them leave, you’ve done several small corrections to their behavior. Once, when washing their hands, one of them let the joints in their fingers pull and contort like they’re rubber, warping and tearing into something beyond physical form. You wash your own hands after them and make sure they see it. A disjointed elbow here, a twisted spine there, and eventually it feels like they’re actually asking for help. You do, every time, because you don’t know what will happen if someday you say no.

  
They do leave one day. You’re a bit sad, but at least they say goodbye. They’re going to join their… Family, you think they said. Go live with their family. Right. You hope they’ve learned what they wanted to learn from you. When you stand in your apartment with your original roommate, staring at the closed door, you can’t make the excuse that they might’ve hurt you. You liked it. You liked helping, and you’re sad to see them go. You wonder what in the hell is wrong with you.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You meet while both at work.

You see them outside once. You work at a small ice cream store just a few blocks from the apartment, and you're shocked when one day your roommate comes through the door with a tall, well-shaven man. He's real. You don't know how you know, but he's so painfully real that your stomach ties into knots at the thought of him standing with them. Of  _ course  _ they have a life outside, they must, they leave in the morning and come home in the evening. Why does it rattle you so badly to be reminded?

Out here in the world, you try your best to get a good look at the person you know so little about. Their hair is long and light brown, but it shimmers blonde when you see it catch the light. A comfortable sweater, loose jeans, sneakers. You've seen the clothes in your shared closet, so they are  _ real clothes,  _ and they make your roommate seem so soft and innocent that you would never spot them in a crowd. The thought gives you shivers.

The two reach the counter. You give your roommate a friendly smile, both out of politeness and out of fear.  _ I notice you. Don't hurt me. I don't trust your intentions. _

They smile back. It's a real one, not the one you know, and the solid reality of it makes it seem so horribly ingenue. It isn't a look of friendly acknowledgement. It's a response to your true message.

You suppose you both must be working today.

The man sees this, but doesn't truly see anything at all. He asks how you know his sister, and in your panic you fumble, say that you just know her (it's  _ wrong _ to place a gender or a name to them, they aren't one person,  _ this isn't his sister, _ ) from around town. He's excited to see her. He says they haven't met up in ten years. It's nice to reconnect.

Your roommate speaks in a voice you know. They don't have an infinite number of them, and this one is common for when they're being more feminine than anything else. They say they'd like you to choose an ice cream flavor for the pair to try. Their exact words are that they want you to surprise them.

You get them a strawberry and cream swirl. Their brother gets cookie dough.

The two talk comfortably enough. Apparently their brother just moved into the city to find himself. His new sister has been working as a… You can't quite make out the words. It started with a heavier syllable than it ended with, you can feel the weight in your mind, but the meaning is utterly gone. He asks them if they can show him around, help him get settled in the area, and they smile so nicely and so warmly. Of course they can. They're family, after all. 

Your shift ends before you see where they go.

You decide not to ask where he went. You never see him again, but that may be coincidence. You  _ cannot ask. _

They do it four more times. They're an ex boyfriend who left on friendly terms. A son. A mother, and that one rattles you the worst, because you can see on their daughter's face that she sees them for what they are. You keep surprising them, a new flavor each time, and you try to match it to what they're trying to be. Their companion gets cookie dough. It's a joke now. You don't laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE go back and re-read the first chapter because i made it fucking readable instead of a paragraph chunky mess and i put back some italics that ao3 decided to eat  
> thats what i get for posting on mobile baby

**Author's Note:**

> no god is powerful enough to make me stop writing this


End file.
